Page 18 of My Orc Package Deal

That grin from a moment ago? It positively bloomed across his face. “Jay’s my brother now, for real.”

I was still staring at him, my throat tight in response to his joy. Milo’s ears stuck out a bit, his dark curls tight against his head, and his voice not yet begun to drop…and in that moment he seemed very young indeed.

“He is,” I managed to croak.

The paternal pride that swelled in me then was a different creature than what I felt for Jay. With Jay, it was a fierce, protective joy—seeing myself reflected in his strength, his competitiveness. With Milo, it was this… quiet awe. A discovery.

He offered me a new window into fatherhood, and I found myself greedy for the view.

“If Jay’s really my brother, then I want him to sleep on the bottom bunk.”

The change in topic pulled my brows down. “Jay has his own room, buddy.”

Milo nodded, his fingers tracing the metallic rim of the snare. “Yeah, but I’m supposed to move into his room with him all the time, not just when we’re gaming. We talked about sharing the bunk beds, yeah?”

I carefully picked my way through the upcoming conversation, trying to see where he was going and how to handle it. “Yes? But not until you were ready.”

His gaze jerked up eagerly. “I’m ready! I mean, I don’t know anyone who has to share a room with their mom. Even in Texas, I had my own bedroom, and Mom’s bed was in the living room. She said we could only afford one room, and I should have it.”

When had I stood up? Why were my claws digging into my palms again? The thought of my wife struggling to pay rent, or the thought of her sacrificing for her son?

“I don’t know if Jay really wants me in his room, but don’t you think it’s silly that me and Mom are sharing?” Milo waved a hand, struggling to shape the thought. “You and Mom are married. Married people share a room. My friend Ben’s parents share a room—his dad’s an orc like you, do you know him?”

Without waiting for me to say yes, I know Aswan, he continued, his voice too fast as he tried to convince me. “In every movie, they share a room. How come Mom can’t just move in with you?” He looked at me as if I were missing the simplest solution to a basic math problem. “Then I could have my own room right now, and we wouldn’t have to move all my stuff later. It seems like… extra steps.”

Oh, fuck.

Sharing a room with Kesha? Sharing a bed with Kesha?

My mouth went dry. My Kteer, which had been a contented purr in my chest as I jammed with my new stepson, uncoiled with a low, visceral thrum I struggled to contain. I’d spent two months battling this need, trying to ignore the memory of her lips under mine…

Heat flushed under my skin, sudden and urgent. It was a primal, possessive surge that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with that sexy little noise she’d made when I kissed her at the altar, and the way she’d pushed up to try to keep me pressed against her.

What would she sound like when she came on my tongue?

My eyes closed tightly as I struggled to maintain control of my cock.

How come Mom can’t just move in with you?

Because I’m a coward.

Because I promised her no expectations.

Because she’s so gods-damned strong and ferociously independent that if she wanted me, she’d have walked into my room and taken what she wanted from me.

Because I had my one chance at a Bond, and I burned it to ashes, and this—this careful, friendly distance—is the penance I deserve.

Because if I let myself want her, really want her, and she doesn’t want me back, I’ll break this beautiful, fragile world we’re building for our sons.

The wanting was a constant, low-grade fever. I’d memorized the scent of her, desperately chasing the tantalizing hint of the occasional whiff of arousal around her.

I lay awake in my big, empty bed, imagining the weight of her beside me, the softness of her curves under my hands, the taste of her skin. I was hard more often than not, a state of perpetual, frustrated readiness I hadn’t experienced since I was Jay’s age.

And I bore it because my word was all I had. Because Kesha deserved safety, not a horny, grieving orc who saw her as a consolation prize.

“It’s… complicated, Milo,” I finally said, a coward’s answer. “Your mom and I, we got married to make a family for you and Jay. To be a team. Sharing a room… that’s something couples do when they’re together…uh…romantically. We’re still figuring that part out.” The explanation sounded hollow even to me.

Milo processed this, his nose scrunching in thought. “But you like her.”